Thursday, February 18, 2010
Different Strokes - #FridayFlash
"There's nothing like a good battle first thing in the morning."
War stood high above the fighting, his sword waving as if conducting a symphony. Death didn't reply. His iPod was on and he continued to whistle 'Louie, Louie' between the gaps in his teeth.
Gaia shimmered in, surprising both men. She didn't normally frequent battles. The frown on her face didn't bode well, either.
"Would you mind moving over to the left a bit?" she said without preamble. "You're trampling endangered fungi."
War crossed his well-muscled arms over his chest, the sword in his hand jabbing Death in the ribs.
"Careful where you poke that thing."
War ignored Death's complaint to focus on Gaia's. "I can't move a war. They break out wherever they may. I have no control over fungi trampling."
"I meant you. You're standing in it."
He looked down at his feet. Several mushrooms oozed out from beneath his boots, mashed into a paste. A strong breeze sprang up, ruffling his hair. War quickly stepped aside, lest Gaia start a monsoon and ruin his battle plans.
"Thank you. I'll remind you to watch where you plant your bloody boots." She glared at both men and whirled out on the wind.
"Meddlesome woman," War muttered.
"You need to relax, my friend. This war doesn't need your supervision." Death peered down into the valley. "It is escalating on its own. Come, I have the perfect game to ease your tension."
"I don't have time for your games, Death."
"But you'll enjoy this one. It's a test of your prowess."
"Oh?" War enjoyed showing off his superior skills. "What is this game?"
"It's called bowling."
"The object of the game is to toss this ball and knock over the pins—"
People scattered as a stray ball crashed into the setting machine three lanes over. Death shook his head at War's pleased grin.
"No. You don't throw it like a shot put and we're only supposed to play in our own lane. Here, let me demonstrate."
Death rolled the ball down the lane, hitting five of the pins.
"Gently, see? Now you try it."
War picked up a ball and crushed it while trying to place his fingers in the holes. He grabbed another and crunched through the debris to stand on the line. His toss touched the lane halfway down, took a bounce to the right and continued in the next lane, where it sank into the gutter.
The owner of the bowling alley, a massive brute named Max, stomped over to confront them.
"Clear out of here. You're scaring all my customers away."
War drew his sword and Death hastened to plant himself between them.
"I don't think this game is good for relaxation after all, my friend. Why don't we go over to my house for a rousing game of checkers instead?"
©2010 Laura Eno